


The Curious Case of Vault 81

by cilceon



Series: Lying Eyes and Honest Hands [11]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Mild Gore, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29720313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cilceon/pseuds/cilceon
Summary: “Molerats are cute in a ‘I’m going to bite your legs off kind of way.’ But – oh okay look at this Dee,” She motioned for him to come closer before realizing he was already at her side. “Thirty-six percent of all diseases can be treated with whatever was happening down here.”“Do you think they improved it any since this was written?” He asked, stepping back as she closed the terminal and moved over a fallen over coat rack to the next door.“Hopefully.” With a flick of the panel the door groaned open. She noted the stack of crates blocking the doorway to her left as they went into the hallway, “Guess Bobby never went past this point.” A whirling sound stopped her, Deacon grabbed her shirt, pulling her back to the crates a blink before the mounted turret started firing. A beat later her gun was pulled, and in another the turret exploded with the impact of Deliver’s bullet.(It's the Hole in the Wall quest where Curie is first introduced! Now with more Deacon commentary)
Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor, Deacon/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Series: Lying Eyes and Honest Hands [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992751
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	The Curious Case of Vault 81

_“When we hold each other, in the darkness, it doesn't make the darkness go away. The bad things are still out there. The nightmares still walking._

_When we hold each other we feel not safe, but better. "It's all right" we whisper, "I'm here, I love you." and we lie: "I'll never leave you."_

_For just a moment or two the darkness doesn't seem so bad.”  
\- Neil Gaiman -_

The headache came moments after the sun is replaced with fluorescence. There had to be at least one drawback in the utopia of a vault, Wanderer supposed.

“Thank god for these glasses huh? Its damn bright in here.” Deacon muttered, shifting the weight in his arms.

She glanced up at him, the crate in her own hands blocking most of him from view, “Huh? When did you get those Dee? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with glasses on before.”

The elevator opened with a sot ding as Deacon responded with utter sincerity. “Well, ya’ know me. Love to try new things.” In part to the crates – she couldn’t see the approaching steps. Wanderer was about to take a step when he jolted one of his crates up, reaching a handout and grabbing the cloth of her shirt, preventing a tumble down to the main hall of the vault. “Stairs.”

“Thanks Dee.”

“Mhm.”

81’s resident cook, Mark had convinced her to go out searching for enough mutfriut to fill a bathtub in exchange for one of his wife’s ‘apple’ pies. Though Deacon had been complaining the entire walk to and from Greygarden – the only place that would have enough of the fruit to fulfill the request, she could tell her companion was as excited about the pastry as she was. The corer of one of his eyebrows had arched up slightly, hiding an expression of – what she assumed, was intrigue.

Besides, they had time to kill before they were meant to report back to HQ. Preston hadn’t pinged her pip-boy with any news in a while either. The pair reached the dinner. The section of the vault was the least crowded she had seen it in the few times she’d visited.

Setting down the crate of fruit on one of the tables Deacon – as always, voiced her thoughts. “Yeesh, you’d think for a Tuesday lunch rush, this place would be you know… rushed.”

Wanderer shrugged, trying not to show her growing anxieties. “It’s Friday, but who’s checking anymore.” She glanced around the main hall. Besides the occasional guard, the entire vault seemed to be elsewhere. It made her skin crawl. Wanderer shifted her bag off her shoulders, setting it on the bench of the table and freed a cola from the inside.

“Sorry for the wait!” Mark’s kind-hearted voice called out as he rounded the corner from the back room, whipping his hands on a stark white towel. “I asked Maria to keep an eye out for you folks but her head just ain't in it today. She's got her mind on Austin stuck down in the medical center – ah would you look at all that produce! You’re a life saver.”

Wanderer’s stomach turned. “Did you say Austin’s sick, Mr. Summerset?”

The elderly man nodded. “He’s down in the med bay now. Whole situations just awful.” He looked down at the rag in his hands, not willing to make eye contact with her.

She gripped the nuka-cola quantum in her hand tighter. It was supposed to be a gift for the boy. In the last visit 81 he had asked for her to bring him something that, in his words was ‘real cool and special’. What fit that description better than a glowing soda?

“Do you wanna go down and check on him boss?” Deacon put his hand on her shoulder softly. “It’ll make him smile to see you.”

Mark pursed his lips. “He’s been unconscious with fever for the last few days–”

Wanderer turned around from the diner and heading down the stairs before he could finish. She could hear her companion mutter an apology to Mark before doing the same.

“Hey, maybe he just has the flu.” Deacon was beside her in an instant later. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

“He said unconscious with fever Deacon.” She kept her eyes forward as she spoke, not wanting to trip down the slick metal steps that led to the lower level and the infirmary.

They were halfway down when a voice cut out from the quiet hum of the vault.

“Austin got bitten by a molerat. Isn't that enough, Jacob? There can't be that many molerat diseases or – or toxins!” It was Doctor Penske, she sounded frustrated – on the verge of tears. “You must do _something_ , Jacob!”

Doctor Forsythe was nearly as tense, “I'm running the tests as fast as I can, Priscilla. Rachel is examining the molerat. Hopefully, she will find something. But these aren't ordinary rodents. Who knows what kind of diseases they are carrying?”

Halfway down the hallway, Bobby DeLuca brushed passed the two of them, heading straight to the doctors.

Deacon muttered a soft, “Uh-oh.”

“Dr. Forsythe–”

“Not now Bobby!” Penske lashed out, the fear of losing Austin reaching its limit.

“I can't treat Austin until I know what he is infected with.” Forsyth tried to turn his attention back to Penske. “Because he's just a child it's affecting him more severely.”

“Dr. Forsythe. Please! I think I found something that might help Austin.” Bobby continued regardless, his voice shaking.

“Bobby! I swear if–” Penske’s voice rose with each word, she sounded like she was moments away from strangling Bobby.

“Hold on, Priscilla.” Forsythe cut in, “What is it Robert?”

Wanderer and Deacon reached the doorway then he stopped her, his voice low, “Let’s let this conversation play out before we make our grand entrance, Wands.” His hand was ghosting over her shoulder again, keeping her from continuing but not quite holding her in place.

She bit her lip with a nod, looking back down at the soda in her hand. She wasn’t as keen on eavesdropping as her partner was. That part of her was slipping away with each passing day though – being replaced with someone she wouldn’t recognize. They waited for Bobby to continue.

“Well, you know that door Austin found? He found it 'cause of me. I keep my… private things in there. He saw me get them.” His voice shook, Wanderer hoped it was because a child was possibly dying and not because he was hiding chems. Her lawyer senses said it was the first one from the brief interactions she had with him in the past.

She could practical feel the doctor roll his eyes, “Get to the point, Robert. What did you find in that place?

“It's like a whole extra vault in there, but half ruined and caved in. There was this terminal there. So, I started poking around in it…” He trailed off for a, to catch his breath or to stop from crying, “There were some notes and stuff about using molerats to grow viruses. But they also said they used 'em to make vaccines and treatments.”

“You mean your chems.” Penske scoffed – calling out his poorly kept secret.

Forsyth ignored her comment. “A secret vault? Good lord! I've never heard of such a thing.”

Penske’s tone shifted, “Bobby, you're a genius! A junkie genius!”

At this, Deacon rapped his fingers over her shoulder lightly. “That’s our cue.”

They stepped into the clinic as if the two had just arrived.

“There might be a cure for whatever Austin got from that molerat somewhere in that place!” Penske went on.

“You there. How would the two of you like to do Vault 81 a favor, and possibly save my boy's life?” The older woman looked almost pained to be asking for assistance, “I need your help to save Austin.”

“Oh uh of course, we would be glad to help.” Wanderer’s attention was on the bed in the corner of the room where Austin was laying. He looked horrifically pale. She walked over to him as the older woman continued, placing the nuka-cola on the end table next to him.

“From what Bobby says, it might be a medical research facility.” The hopeful air in Penske’s voice returned to somber. “At least I hope so. It may be Austin's only chance.” She couldn’t fully hide her worries for Austin, “Bobby here will show you where he keeps his secret stash. There is a chance that somewhere in there is a cure for Austin. If you find it, bring it to Dr. Forsythe. And for Austin's sake, please – please hurry.”

“Of course, Dr. Penske. We’ll go as fast as we can.” Wanderer spared a last glance to the boy as they headed out of the room towards the power conductors. Forsythe continuing to sooth Penske as the went.

Bobby led them to the generator room, fidgeting with his hands the entire time. “It's all my fault. Please god, don't let Austin die.” Bobby muttered, revealing the hole to the cut off section of the vault.

Wanderer glanced over Deliverer, making sure everything was in working order before heading deeper into the vault. She was content with ignoring him, but it seemed Deacon felt the opposite.

“Look kid, it ain’t a god you need to be beggin’ to right now.” Wanderer looked up from her gun to see Deacon standing between herself and Bobby, facing away from her. She couldn't see his expression, not that she'd be able to read much from it. But his shoulders shadowed a sliver of tension. It seemed he was more affected by Austin’s condition than she had thought.

She spoke to the back of his head, suddenly feeling the need to defuse the conversation about to play out before her. “You ready, Dee?”

“I’m all ready to go.”

“Bobby,” She directed her attention to the young man. “You have a chance to be better. Don’t waste it.”

He snapped his head down at her words, “Yes ma’am. I – I’ll try. Really I will.”

Deacon scoffed, just barely loud enough for her to hear as he turned towards the door. Wanderer followed behind him into the darkness of the vault.

Once the other side of the door they were greeted with a premating smell of mildew mixed with something reminiscent of wet dog. The floor had a thick layer of dirt and grime covering it along with metal Vault-Tec crates scattered about. They mazed their way through to the stairs.

Beside her, Deacon glanced up around the decaying room. The roof looked to be three floors up. “Huh, I wonder what the acoustics are like in here…”

“I swear if you start singing, I’ll leave you in here with the rats.”

He gasped playfully, “You would never!”

Some of the lights of the vault were still on and as they turned the corner of the second floor’s landing, Bobby’s drugs were illuminated by the dust covered fluorescents. Wanderer stepped over them to get to the hole in the wall farther down the hall – conveniently it was the right size for a person to fit through.

A live wire zapped haphazardly above them as they crossed into what looked like a residential room.

Near the door was a desk with a terminal buzzing contently in its sleep mode, she stopped to open it. “No password,” Wanderer mused, “This must be the one our friendly neighbourhood junky mentioned.”

Deacon rummaged through the objects scattered amongst the desk, picking up a coffee mug he read out loud; “Crusin’ for a brewin’. Ha, get it? Cause you brew coffee? Classic.”

“Yeah, yeah. A real big tickle that one… oh gross.” She looked through the files of the terminal, “They were breading molerats down here.” Wanderer moved to the next file.

“Icky,” Deacon was peaking over her shoulder now, losing interest in the coffee mug. “They coulda picked bunnies or something cuter.”

“Molerats are cute in a ‘I’m going to bite your legs off kind of way.’ But – oh okay look at this Dee,” She motioned for him to come closer before realizing he was already at her side. “Thirty-six percent of all diseases can be treated with whatever was happening down here.”

“Do you think they improved it any since this was written?” He asked, stepping back as she closed the terminal and moved over a fallen over coat rack to the next door.

“Hopefully.” With a flick of the panel the door groaned open. She noted the stack of crates blocking the doorway to her left as they went into the hallway, “Guess Bobby never went past this point.” A whirling sound stopped her, Deacon grabbed her shirt, pulling her back to the crates a blink before the mounted turret started firing. A beat later her gun was pulled, and in another the turret exploded with the impact of Deliver’s bullet. The speed and accuracy of her actions unnerved her. “Shit, thanks Dee.”

“Mhm.” He shook his head with a hand on his hip, the other holding his riffle, Churchbell. “Honestly, Wanderer, you gotta start peaking around corners before you turn them. Your heads going to get pinged clean off and I don’t think Carrington’ll-”

“ **Intruder detected**.” A protectron buzzed out, “ **Identify yourself. Do not. Attempt to flee.** **You. Will be. Identified and. Sanctioned.”**

“Hold that thought for a moment will you Dee. We got a friend to deal with.”

“I’m on it.” Deacon moved in front of her to look over the metal boxes with the scope of his gun. Glasses not moving “Oooh nifty, there’s another turret, this one looks laser themed. Let’s get rid of that before the special guest rounds the corner.” The _tick_ of Churchbell, the recoil rocking his upper body back followed by a distant explosion, all went off in quick succession. The suppressor stopping the shot from ringing into the chamber around them.

The protection repeated its command as Deacon readied for it to turn the corner into view, “Think I can get it on the first shot?”

Wanderer let out a puff of air, “You know I’ll be ready if you can’t.”

“Ooo ouch Wands, way to hurt my confidence.” He aimed and took the shot, shattering the glass of the protectron’s dome and its combat inhibitor with it. The robot crumpled to the floor as Wanderer wondered how terrifyingly accurate Deacon had to be if he didn’t have a shaded lens between himself and the scope of his riffle. She would bet this man could give MacCready a run for his money.

She gave him a show of applauding the shot. “Wow, Showstopping. Stunning. Brilliant. Amazing. Other words for impressive. Oh! Magnificent.”

He rolled his eyes. Well, Wanderer assumed he did from the sliver of an orange eyebrow that peeked over the rim of his glasses. “Okay, alright,” Deacon let out a soft chuckle, “Consider my ego officially re-fluffed.”

Instead of moving the crates that blocked their path, they opted to see if there was another way around. The two turned into another residential area, through a hole in the wall to a third, ending up on the other side of the barricade. “I wonder, how many people lived here?” She mused, stepping around the shattered face of the protectron Deacon shot.

“It looks like there’s a second diner area down there, so I’m guessing a few.” He motioned down the stairs in from of them. “My question is why did it get sealed off?”

In the silence that followed, Wanderer heard the faint clicking of another wall turret. She frowned, walking down the stairs looking for it. “And why are there so many turrets?” She stopped halfway down the staps before popping it off the wall with Deliver. “Where are all the molerats?”

Deacon cleared his throat, “Why are there so many turrets and so little rats? Find out on the next episode of…” The show announcer voice left him, “Ah I can’t think of a show title. Darn.”

Wanderer tapped on the glass of another protectron’s hob absentmindedly as they walked past and deeper into the vault, “How ‘bout The Trials and Tribulations of The Death Bunny Duo?”

“Aw shucks Wanderer you remembered the name.” He put a hand over his chest. “Now that just warms my old soul.”

“My soul’s older than yours buddy.” At the end of the hallway, they reached a doorway with two glowing signs above them. _Research. Maintenance._ “Well, I guess that means this was the sciencey part of the vault.”

“Bet it wasn’t the good type of siencey.” The blinking red of the maintenance lights reflected off of his glasses, “Never is with Vault-Tec though, is it? Always up to their old tricks.”

Wanderer’s answerer was near a whisper, she would’ve thought he didn’t hear it if it wasn’t for the curt nod he gave in response. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

Through to the other end of the tunnel they found themselves in a more collapsed section of the chamber. The floor panels were broken apart and deteriorated to such a degree that most of the ground had been taken over by soil.

Deacon’s southern accents were never the best, that didn’t stop him from attempting them though. “This here looks like molerat country.”

She decided to play along, “Why molerat country?” Wanderer’s accent was more believable than her partner’s, she did have the advantage of having some of her family be from the south to be able to prefect it. “In all my years I never heard of such a thing!”

“Look’it here, Wanderer.” He gestured to a suspiciously large mound of dirt with a dead molerat halfway out of it. “A genuine dead rat of moles! Stickin’ outa god’s green– brown earth, just for us.”

She broke character, looking at the corpse to the dirt around them, “That’s actually disgusting.”

“There’s worst ones, trust me.” Deacon’s voice returned to normal as well.

“Can’t be worse than your accent, that’s for sure.” She shoved him playfully as they moved around what looked to be a blown reactor halfway buried in the ground. Wanderer squinted and stopped walking, Deacon doing the same.

“What’s up boss?” The joking tone was completely gone.

“I thought I saw the ground move.” Her hand instinctively tightened around Deliverer.

Deacon put his hand on her shoulder from his place behind her, guiding her forwards. “Yep, that would be the rats. We should get up the stairs and away from them.”

They were halfway up the stairs when there was a growing rumbling sound then a burst of dust and gravel from below them as four molerats immerged from the earth.

Wanderer sighed; the rats didn’t see them yet but if they left them alone, they might find their way to the main vault. She hated killing animals. Well, Wanderer hated killing _anything._ But molerats, bloodflies, mirelurk… they were just existing. They didn’t go out of their way to kill people unless people invaded their space.

Deacon seemed to read her mind and voiced what he found, “If we leave them, they could get into the main vault Wands. We’re good shots, it won’t hurt.”

She shook her head then lifted her gun. “Look at the bunnies George, just look at the bunnies.” She mumbled, firing. One. Two. Three. Deacon got the fourth.

“Of Mice and Men?” He asked as the continued on their way.

“It fit with the bunny theme, a coincidence of course.”

 _“I'm sure this whole thing is overblown; Austin will be running around tomorrow.”_ An overly optimistic voice crackled out of a speaker in the wall on the second landing, almost in time with Wanderer’s steps.

“Oh no.” Deacon gawked as he came up behind her. "No, that’s not creepy at all.”

Doctor Penske’s voice responded, the concern it held earlier now amplified, _“Overblown or not, we have to do what we can for Austin. I just… I just don't know what I can do.”_

The other voice sounded forlorn now, the false optimism degrading away, _“Neither do I, Priscilla.”_

Penske’s voice broke and Wanderer’s heart with it, _“Why him? He's just a boy.”_ How many times had she echoed those words herself?

 _“He’s going to be just fine, you’ll see.”_ She found herself nodding with the voice.

As they climbed to the floor above a similar set up was found, the terminal said it was to the depo.

Holt’s voice pierced through the silence, much to Wanderer’s annoyance _. “Well, this is gonna be a joy for you. You get to nag me, and I can't go anywhere.”_

Alexis’s response was tinged with distain. “ _Oh, real nice, Holt. Make this about you. Don't you think about anyone other than yourself? Your daughter could get sick like Austin, and you're whining about spending time with your family?”_

“Yeesh, you were a counselor, right? Maybe you could help these two?” Deacon chimed beside her.

Wanderer sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I was a civil defense lawyer.”

Holt cut in, _“I have things to do. We don't have to hide away in here.”_

Alexis slammed something on the counter, Wanderer flinched. _“You are so busy, Holt? You have so much to do? Please, explain to Erin why your needs are more important than her safety.”_ Did these two really not have the decency to have their spat away from their child?

“Come on Wands,” Deacon brushed past her to the door hiding the rest of the vault. “It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

She rolled her eyes, following him to the next room and another ‘observation area’. “Dee, I hate this I really, really hate this.”

“Yeah, you of all people get to say that.” He walked up to the grime and dust covered glass panel on the wall. “Wouldn’t the people on the other notice a big ass window in their room?” He cuffed his hands around his eyes and tried to look through the glass.

Wanderer booted up the working terminal next to it. “It has to be a one-way mirror. We see them, they see themselves.”

“Coolio… always wanted to find one of these.” Deacon tapped the glass casually then glanced over to her, “Do you know how they work?”

As always, one of Deacon’s most endearing traits – to Wanderer at least, was his affinity for asking questions. He wanted to know how everything pre-war worked. She smiled in memory of the night she spent explaining how to use a melon baller.

They waited for the terminal to wake as she answered. “Hm, I think they’re actually all partially see-through.” She racked her brain for information, “Light reflects from it, but some light also gets through.” Wanderer snapped her fingers, remembering, “Yeah, all mirrors are mostly transparent, but people would paint the back of the mirror so the other side’s light wouldn’t come through.”

Deacon tilted his head to the side. “But how’d they make it,” He poked the glass again, “See-through without being see-through?”

The terminal finally whirled to life, she continued info dumping as she tapped through the machine. “I think when they’re like this and dividing two rooms, one room was dark while the other room had lights on. People in the lit room see a mirror and since it’s brighter, that rooms reflected by the partial mirror.” Wanderer paused a moment as she riffled around in the files. “Folks in the darkened room don't see their reflections, instead they see through the mirror, and can watch the people in the brightly lit on. If that makes sense?”

A voice coming through the speaker above the mirror shot out – Wanderer jumped. Deacon put his hand out to steady her with a chuckle. “Yeah, makes sense boss. I’m impressed.”

Wanderer looked through the most recent entry on the computer as the voices spoke.

 _“You and your staff are to make sure every resident remains under stringent medical observation.”_ It was the stern voice of Gwen. Her office must’ve been on the other side.

 _“Understood but overseer-”_ Doctor Forsyth’s voice answered.

_“No buts. This is for the good of the vault. We can’t risk this pathogen spreading, doctor.”_

_“Yes, overseer.”_ He sounded solemn, resigned in his order.

Gwen’s voice softened – her own worry seeping out, _“How is Austin doing?”_

Forsyth sighed, _“Not good. The infection has progressed quite rapidly. We need a way to stop it from spreading. If Austin were an adult, I doubt it would be affecting him in such a way. But he’s just a child…”_

“Let keep going Dee.” Wanderer turned from the glass and made her way down the stairs behind them.

“Sure thing.” Deacon gave her shoulder a squeeze as they turned, Gwen’s voice ending the conversation, _“Then let's hope those outsiders pull through and get us a cure.”_

They made their way through a small nest of molerats into what she had to guess what the main research lab. They made quick work of the molerats in the chamber, noting the room to the side where there used to be pet cages. More Vault-Tec crates were strewn around the room.

Wanderer b-lined to the door terminal while Deacon let out a low whistle once on the upper floor. “Wowzers, it looks like a little molerat prison up here. Not that you’d notice… humph, all you care about is those little light boxes.” He sniped out the molerats drawn out with his riffle as she worked.

“Oh, you wanna be the one trying to open these?” She teased. “I forgot you also had a minor in computer programing. I can’t open this one, it’s too strong. I’d need the password. _But_ you’re more than welcomed to try Professor Deacon.”

With the last shot he looked over his shoulder to her, “Please, Professor Deacon was my father.”

“Why yes of course, how silly of me to forget.” She elbowed him gingerly as she walked to the back of room of the so called molerat prison. “Let’s go see if we can find the password somewhere in the back.”

“Hope it’s on a sticky note.” Deacon leaned in the doorway as she sat at the desk in the half-collapsed research room, clicking on the dustiest terminal she’d ever seen. She thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but it had must have just been Deacon’s shadow.

“Holy shit.” Wanderer gasped, she looked to his place by the door.

“Hm? What gossip did you find?” He glanced over to her before looking back into the hallway.

“The scientist down here wanted to experiment on the residents of the vault – who didn’t even know that they existed. The overseer shut them down, then they locked the scientist down here.”

Deacon crossed his arms, “How long did they leave them?”

“I think… I think forever.” She felt sick to her stomach. “There’s a few more correspondences but they’re just the researcher… pleading for a response from the overseer. I don’t understand how someone could do something like this. How could they be so – Ah!” A searing hot paint rippled through her calf and she kicked out on reflex, punting what looked like a molerat runt across the room.

Deacon treated the rat like he was skeet shooting and the unfortunate rodent was the clay target. Practically exploding it.

Wanderer winced as she crossed her leg over her knee to examine it, “Oh no.”

He was kneeling in front of her now, looking at her leg. “Let me see.” He pulled her hand away from the bite to look at it.

“This is what I get for wearing cuffed jeans.” She mumbled; her head was spinning slightly, eyes going hazy before adjusting again.

Deacon glanced up at her, pale blue eyes just barely peering out behind them. “Are you okay?” His voice was low.

Wanderer nodded, “I’ll live.” She felt queasy, but they had something important to be doing. She could worry about the bite later. It seemed to be already clotting. “I don’t think its jaw was strong enough to do any actual damage. Like getting nipped at by a pissed off house cat.”

“A hairless, rabid, house cat.” He helped her get to her feet, “If you start foaming at the mouth boss, I’m leaving you down here.”

She mocked a gasp as he had done earlier, “You would never.”

Once the password was found, they moved back to the last terminal. The bite throbbing slightly with each step.

Out of all the things she was expecting to see around the corner, three lockers laying on the ground surrounded by dried flowers and _lit_ candles wasn’t high on the list.

Each locker had a neatly folded white lab coat resting at the foot of them, one had glasses resting on top of it.

“Why are the candles lit?” Deacon and Wanderer looked at each other as they spoke in unison, both shrugged in response.

Wanderer swallowed, suddenly feeling like she was in a bad horror movie.

“Oh! Another stranger.” A melodic French accented voice rung out, Wanderer reached for Deliverer, but Deacon put his hand out, stopping her. “Are you two Vault-Tec security? I've waited so very patiently for you to arrive.” The voice continued.

He walked in front of her towards the window into another room. A Miss Nanny hovered contently on the other side of the glass. “And who might you be?” He crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side as he waited for the robot’s response.

The Nanny spun in a circle, as if she were twirling a skirt. “I am a Contagions Vulnerability Robotic Infirmary Engineer, or CVRIE. The human scientists call me Curie…” Her voice tinged with sadness for a moment, “Or more properly – they called me this when they were alive.”

“Vault-Tec was running some experiments down here. Do you know anything ‘bout that Miss Curie?” Deacon questioned. Wanderer stood a step behind him, glancing down at her leg. Eyes fuzzing again before clearing. It was starting to throb with her heartbeat, she needed to clean it and the sooner the better. She hoped that she didn’t get whatever Austin had.

Curie’s machinery whirled and hissed, “My poor little darlings. They were used to grow all manner of new and interesting pathogens. The vault citizens would be exposed to these viruses in the hopes that they would develop new antibodies. But they never got a chance to execute their plan. Clyde got out of his cage… He was smarter than the others, my sweet Clyde. He let out the others and the poor scientists never stood a chance. Clyde's been dead for almost two centuries now, but his descendants have free run of the vault… ah I'm rambling. Where are my manners. Are you Vault-Tec security?”

Deacon didn’t miss a beat, “Why yes, yes we are.”

“Superb! I placed an emergency call so long ago. I was beginning to think something dreadful must've happened. I am pleased to report I completed my primary duties 83 years ago. Thousands of pathogens were grown in the molerat hosts. Ah, then a single broad-spectrum cure was developed to treat them all. Very satisfying work for many decades.”

He hummed as if in thought then asked a question he already knew the answer to, “So the rats were used as experiments?”

“Why, yes. I've grown quite fond of them over the years. But they outlived their usefulness as I said – 83 years ago. Now, please tell me you are authorized to release me from the lab.”

He shifted his weight to the other foot casually, “Why can’t you just leave?”

Wanderer could practically feel Curie sighing. “I require verbal or written authorization… Actually, any Vault-Tec employee, even you, could authorize me.” She perked up, “You must be Vault-Tec, or you couldn't possibly be here!”

Wanderer cut in now, stepping shoulder to shoulder with Deacon, “Vault-Tec is gone. No need to follow their rules anymore.”

Curie paused, for a moment, Wanderer though she had blown a fuse. “Gone? Truly? My programming doesn't cover this contingency. Please tell me the authority to release me was transferred to you.” She sounded afraid.

Deacon cleared his throat, “Yes we are so authorized. You are released.”

“Wonderful! I had almost given up all hope of leaving here. I'll open the door for you.” Curie moved to the side as she continued speaking, “Since you are Vault-Tec representatives, I entrust you two with the broad spectrum cure I developed. If you have an equivalent to my digital Hippocratic oath, please use it quickly to prevent any undue suffering.” She hovered over to a large metal refrigerator then pried it open, “However, be advised, there is only one dose left, and I can no longer make any more. If that is all, I am most eager to leave.” She jetted out one of her claws with the serum in it towards Wanderer.

“You only have one dose?” She questioned, taking the vial from Curie. Wanderer held it in her hand as if it were more valuable than the crown jewels of England.

“That is correct. There used to be more, but they all expired. Sadly, the organic compounds necessary to make more have all deteriorated. My primary responsibility is to obey the orders of specified Vault personnel. Even if those orders violate my ethical matrix. But since you have graciously discharged me of this duty, I can give you the cure without directly disobeying my previous order. And if you happen to use the cure to save a life, then this is just a happy coincidence, no?” Curried puttered out of the room with Wanderer and Deacon following.

“It will, you’re saving a child’s life with this.” Wanderer held it to her chest.

Curie made sort of a bowing motion Wanderer had seen Codsworth do hundreds of times before. “Since my job here is done, I think I will follow you two out. There is an elevator at then of the hall that leads to the entrance of the vault.”

It was a tight fit for the three of them in the elevator, Curie didn’t seem to mind though.

“I’ve done a routine diagnostic scan of you, mademoiselle. It seems that your DNA has not been altered due to radiation unlike the others I can reach with my scanners… how curious.”

Wanderer hummed in agreement, not wanting to elaborate on why that was the case.

“Oh my! It seems you have recently contracted a virus. Are you feeling well?” One of Curie’s eyes looked her up and down, Deacon’s back stiffened ever so slightly.

Wanderer shrugged, not wanting to worry him, “I feel fine.” She blinked the blur of her vision away.

The elevator dinged and they stepped out of it. She practically ran towards the infirmary.

“Doctor Forsyth!” Wanderer put a hand on the doorframe to steady herself, she was out of breath faster than she normally would be. She was sure Deacon was taking a note of it. “We have it.”

The man slapped the clipboard in his hands down on his desk and rushed to her, taking the serum. “You have the cure!” He held it to the light, inspecting it.

Wanderer made to Austin’s side as the doctor readied the cure in a syringe. “How’s Austin doing?”

“He’s still unconscious, fever rising,” Doctor Forsyth made a tisking sound, “Ah only one dose worth. This may be our only chance to save Austin.”

“It will work.” Curie spoke as she entered the room, Forsyth sent the Miss Nanny a quizzical glance before returning to the vial. “Please do not doubt me.” Currie looked between the doctor and Wanderer for a moment. “You will give the cure to this boy, yes? What about you? I believe you have contracted whatever ailment he has.”

Wanderer bit her lip, not looking from the frail sweat stricken body in the bed. “He is far more important than me Curie.”

“Is that true? I cannot say. What I can say is that you will most likely survive this where the boy will not…however I do not believe it will fully leave you anytime soon? Is your vision clouding at all?”

The overseer moved her way into the clinic, ending Curie’s train of thought. Deacon made room for her as she passed through the doorway he was leaning in. “I heard you two…three returned from the sealed section of the vault.” She stopped next to Austin’s bed as Forsyth knelt to inject the child.

“It shouldn’t be long.” Forsyth muttered.

A minute past and Austin rolled over onto his side with a groggy groan. “Wha? Doc Forsyth? Why am I… in the clinic?”

Wanderer let out her breath in tandem with Gwen, “Oh thank god.”

“You got very ill Austin.” Forsyth patted the boy’s shoulder. “But our friends from the Commonwealth saved you.”

“Gee really?” His voice was tired, but he perked up at the sight of Wanderer, “I knew you were cool.”

The overseer answered before she could, “I was worried to death over you Austin. What got into your fool head, running into a place like that?

Oh god, Gwen sounded just like Desdemona…

Austin pouted from his place on the bed, too exhausted to sit up, “Nothin’ exciting ever happens down here… I– I just wanted to see what was on the other side.” He yawned, signaling his return to sleep.

“Well, if it wasn’t for our friends here,” Doctor Forsyth cut in, “you might have died young man.” He looked to Wanderer, “Thank you, I understand you have made a sacrifice to your own health to save Austin. Doctor Penske will be grateful.”

“She’s not the only one, the whole vault is grateful. If there’s anything we can do for you please just say the word.”

“A bed and a shower sounds nice.” She joked.

Gwen nodded, “I’d like to give you a room in our vault.”

“Huh?” Wanderer raised her hand in protest, but she was stopped.

“To come and go as you please of course, it is in the main hall to the left of the elevator. You will be exempt from the water limit. We can fill out the paperwork at another time.” She shook Wanderer’s hand before turning to the exit. “Now I must inform Pricilla that Austin is awake.”

“Aw man.” Austin whined, “She’s gonna be so mad.”

“And you,” she addressed Curie, “We need to have a chat.”

“Of course, mademoiselle.”

“If I may,” Doctor Forsyth returned to his desk, then moved to a nearby medicine cabinet – obviously looking for something. “I believe I may have something to combat any set on side effects of the illness you may receive.”

Wanderer nodded slowly, sparing a glance Deacon’s way before joining Forsyth by the opened shelf. Too quick of a movement made her dizzy, her joints ached and each tendon felt like they were pulled taught.

“They were of no use to Austin of course, but your immune system is in a much more resident state than his.”

“I would hope so.” She joked lightheartedly.

Forsyth smiled softly; it didn’t reach his eyes. “Please let me know of any progressing side effects and take these one a day until you run out.”

“Of course, Doctor.” She took the bottle of pills from him like it was nothing more than a normal medical checkup.

“May I attend to the wound?” He pointed down to her leg, “I’m assuming this is it?”

She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, “That’d be nice.”

Forsyth gestured to a chair for her to sit in, then to Deacon who hadn’t left the doorway. “You might as well come in and make yourself comfortable too. This make take a while.”


End file.
